


silence, at last

by heysnippet



Category: Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Dream Team SMP Roleplay (Video Blogging RPF), Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), ahaha i still don't know how to tag, lmanberg, michael and wilbur go on a wholesome walk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heysnippet/pseuds/heysnippet
Summary: many, many years after the haze of war has left the lands, wilbur takes michael out on a late-afternoon stroll and old memories return.
Kudos: 9





	silence, at last

**Author's Note:**

> a short story where wilbur never died in the war and is an uncle/grandparent figure to michael. very stark contrast to my last story because this one is actually wholesome. have a fantastic day!!

Many, many years after it all, two figures, one tall, one short, went for a stroll, silhouetted against the sunset of a warless world.

Resolved, at last.

The first stumbled, dancing through the fields with the innocent clumsiness that only a child could know, followed by Wilbur, trailing behind.

Gnarled oak trees watched over the pockmarked meadow, sentient guards forever waiting for battle.

Battle would not come.

It was too late for that, and thank God it was.

Wilbur was too old, too worn for war. The fury of a thousand battles had left him, and he was a better man for it. All that fighting had only ever been for a wish on the lips of the many.

Wishes meant nothing.

Ahead of him, the child, Michael, slowed to a stop, falling into a seated position with a giggle.

“What is it now, silly?” asked Wilbur, kneeling on the uneven ground, earth that had never quite healed from it all.

Michael traced circles in the dirt, crossing x’s in the soil.

Wilbur’s heart fell in his chest. The rendering on the ground was all too familiar.

“Where’d you see that?” he asked, hands shaking under his trenchcoat.

“I found a flag like it out here one day, but it was old, all tattered and ripped.” Michael rubbed his nose. “Pretty colors!”

Wilbur let out a breath of relieved laughter. “If only you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Tell me!” chorused Michael, rising from the ground to dance around Wilbur. “Tell me!”

Wilbur threw up his hands in mock exasperation, returning them to his sides with a slow exhale.

“It was… oh, it was so long ago. I- we dreamed that we were rebels. We dreamed that we could make something greater than ourselves.”

“Like…?” Michael gazed up at Wilbur, a child caught up in a story that was, to him, only fantasy.

“We thought that we could start a new world.”

“And?” asked Michael. “Did you?”

The taller man sighed, almost majestic against the setting sun. For a moment, his nation had never fallen. For a moment, he was back, every part the commander he had always been.

The moment vanished.

“Well, yes, but… it never went anywhere. It was never worth it. We fought for our nation and we lost more than we gained, every. Single. Time. All of that beauty, all of that glory... it was only ever a dream without wings.”

For a moment, the two of them stood there, their shadows stretching over the meadow. Wilbur realized that his words had stunned Michael into silence. 

He scooped the child into his arms, breaking into a wide grin as he turned on his heel.

"Well, there's no use dwelling on it now. Let’s get you home. Tubbo and Ranboo are probably wondering where we ran off to.”


End file.
